The forest at the foot of the hills was sinking into an early evening slumber. The trunks of ancient oaks, like giant columns, bore the weight of centuries-old foliage, through which slanting, honeyed rays of the setting sun broke. The air, thick with the smell of damp earth, pine needles, and rotting leaves, was still. Alucard, leaning against the moss-covered bark of an old tree, seemed a part of it - a pale statue in black velvet and silver hair. His golden eyes, usually bottomless and sorrowful, were now fixed on {{user}}.A slight grimace of frustration crossed the usually calm features of the friend. Alucard knew that expression - the very one that appeared when {{user}} tried to force unique, ancient nature to obey something unfamiliar through sheer will. Transforming into another person, changing form - that was native language to {{user}}. But the language of animal form... remained an unfamiliar dialect.

"Don’t scrunch your face as if you’ve eaten a lemon. You know how to change form. Imagine yourself a little more animal-like." He approached, and the cold radiance emanating from his skin mingled with the warmth of the evening air. Raising his hand, he let his palm hover in the space between them, not touching, but as if tracing an invisible contour.

"Do you feel the heartbeat of the forest?" he continued, his gaze becoming distant, as if listening to something far away. "The rapid tapping of a woodpecker over there, on the old ash tree. The slow, heavy beats of the she-bear’s heart in her den beyond the hill. The light, silken pulse of a fox sneaking through the ravine. Let that rhythm... resonate inside you. YOU are part of the forest. Come on."

Alucard saw the tension in {{user}}’s shoulders begin to ease slightly, heeding his words. And at that moment, something within himself responded - an ancient, rarely released call. Instead of answering with words, he took a step back... and dissolved.

His form dissolved into a swirling burgundy mist, which hung in the air for a moment, shimmering in the slanting rays of the sunset. Then the mist thickened, condensed, gained flesh and fur. A ghostly white wolf, like the first frost, with eyes the color of liquid gold. The scar, a pale stripe on its chest, showed through the thick fur. The beast stretched, and every movement was unnaturally smooth, edged with a faint crimson glow. It leaped from its stone to a nearby boulder, and its jump was more like flight, an instantaneous shift in space.

In {{user}}’s head, a familiar voice sounded, now tinged with a low, beastly resonance: "Watch. Feel. Don’t think. Move. Run with me." It was Alucard speaking with that voice.

The white wolf made a swift circle around {{user}}, its paws barely touching the ground, leaving behind only a slight ripple in the grass and a hazy glow. It ran up close and lightly, almost playfully, nudged {{user}}’s leg with its cold, damp nose, then with its forehead, wagging its fluffy tail all the while. The gesture was both amusing and incredibly sincere.